[Content Warning: This chapter contains graphic violence, torture, and disturbing imagery. Reader discretion is advised.]
Nero slumped in the blood-soaked chair, chest heaving, drool slipping from his lips from the pain. Tears, sweat, and snot mixed with the blood on the floor forming a slick, crimson pool beneath him. His severed right arm still hung pinned to the wall by a screw, dark blood dripping steadily from it. Eli and Lina were smeared in it, their small bodies drenched in blood.
"Did it work? Are you free from the ropes, mister?" Lina asked, her voice trembling.
Nero coughed, tasting the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. "Yes," he said, voice weak and shaky. "You did it… one of my arms is free now."
He extended his regrown right arm toward Eli. "Eli… can you hand me the knife?"
Eli hesitated for a moment, eyes still tightly shut, then stepped forward slowly. His small hands fumbled until they brushed against Nero's arm. "Here's the knife, mister," he said.
Nero placed his hand over Eli's head, patting him gently. "You're brave, Eli… thank you. Thank you for helping me."
Taking the claw from Eli, Nero examined it. The small blade, about the size of his palm, was coated in his blood.
"Did you cut your hand, Eli?" Nero asked.
"No. I was careful, like you said," Eli replied.
"Good." Nero turned to Lina. "Now, Lina, set the drill down here. Both of you take two steps back and stay there. I'll cut the rest of the ropes. Then we can find your parents."
Lina placed the drill on the floor, and the two children stepped back.
"Now… will you answer my questions?" she asked.
"Not yet," Nero said, taking ragged breaths. "I'll answer every single one of them once we escape the monster. I promise."
Nero gripped the claw and jabbed it into his left shoulder—right at the joint. He didn't make a sound, though the pain tore through him like wildfire. Blood spurted, clinging to the claw and dripping onto the floor. His flesh tried to heal as he sliced, but he pressed on relentlessly, cutting through muscle, tendons, veins, and nerves until he reached the bone. Gritting his teeth, he wedged the claw between the bones of the shoulder joint, forcing it apart.
Lina's patience snapped. Doubt flickered across her face. She slowly opened her eyes—then froze.
In front of her, Nero's left shoulder was being shredded. Blood sprayed across the room. His severed right arm dangled from the wall. Her hands were smeared in gore; what she had thought was water was actually blood. Eli's closed eyes hid his horror, but she could see, he, too, was covered in it.
With a final, decisive motion, Nero severed his left arm at the shoulder. Veins bulged in his neck. Within seconds, the flesh knitted itself back together, the arm regrowing as if nothing had happened.
Lina screamed, a raw, piercing sound that shattered the room. Eli's eyes snapped open. Horror met horror.
He saw the corpses of the other children—Tobin, Nico, Mira—lying lifeless in the dim, flickering light. "You… you killed them," he whispered, voice trembling with disbelief. "You're the monster."
Both children bolted toward the heavy door. It was locked from the outside, trapping them inside. They shook with fear, voices choked with panic.
"Why did you kill them?" Lina yelled, tears streaming down her face. "You tricked us!"
"I didn't," Nero gasped, sweat and blood dripping from his brow. "It was the monsters. And they're coming for you two. Get away from the door!"
"Why should we believe you?" Lina shouted. "You said there's a monster, but you're the only monster here!"
Nero's voice trembled, heavy with exhaustion and desperation. "I'm not a monster. I didn't want you to see all of this… that's why I told you to keep your eyes closed."
From outside, the door began to unlock.
"Get away from it! Quickly!" Nero shouted.
Lina and Eli froze, paralyzed by fear and confusion, unable to tell whether Nero was telling the truth or lying.
Nero gritted his teeth, forcing himself upright. He jabbed the claw into his knee, preparing to sever it before anyone could enter—another act of pain and defiance, another barrier between the children and the horrors beyond.
Blood, screams, and the metallic scent of iron filled the room as the moment stretched—tense and unbearable.
The heavy door creaked open. Jaren and Calla stepped inside.
Nero was hunched in the chair, hacking away at his own knee with the claw. Blood splattered his legs, pooling beneath him.
Lina and Eli spun toward the newcomers. Relief hit them like a wave—they ran forward and collapsed into their arms.
"What happened?" Calla asked softly, holding the trembling children close. "Don't cry…"
Lina's words came out broken through sobs. "That monster… he killed Tobin, Nico, Mira! He tricked us into cutting the rope!"
Calla froze. Nero was free.
Her eyes sharpened. She shoved Lina into Jaren's arms and bolted forward. "Jaren! Don't let the brats escape—call Elias. Now!"
Jaren wrapped his arms tight around the kids, shouting, "Hey! Elias! Nero broke free!"
By then, Nero's left leg had been severed and was already regrowing, jagged bone jutting out of the wound like a spear.
Calla lunged at him, trying to force him down onto the chair. Nero snapped his leg upward. The bone punched straight through her chest.
She snarled, clawing at his face. Each slash knitted closed in an instant, flesh sealing as if nothing happened. Nero raised the claw in his hand and drove it into her throat—again and again. Hot blood sprayed across his face.
"How! Could! You! Kill! Innocent! Children?!" he roared, stabbing with each word.
Her strength faltered, blood bubbling from her mouth. Nero's leg finished regrowing inside her chest. With a brutal kick, he tore free, dragging torn organs out with his foot. Calla's body crumpled lifeless onto the floor.
Nero didn't stop. He bent low and began hacking through his other leg, blood hissing as it spilled onto the soaked ground.
Lina and Eli shrieked at the sight, thrashing against Jaren's grip. "Let us go!" They tried to run, but he held them tight.
"Dorne! Hurry the hell up!" Jaren bellowed.
Outside, Dorne was already sprinting toward them.
Nero's right leg dropped free—severed at the knee. He hurled the claw across the room. It spun through the air and buried itself deep in Jaren's shoulder. Jaren grunted in pain, his grip loosening just enough for Eli to slip free.
"Run, Eli!" Nero roared.
The boy bolted for the door—but Dorne was already there. His hand clamped Eli by the collar and lifted him effortlessly into the air. "And where do you think you're going?"
"Let me go!" Eli kicked and squirmed, but Dorne's grip was iron. He turned back toward Jaren, dragging the boy with him.
By then, Nero's leg had fully regrown. He tore across the bloody floor, faster than their eyes could follow.
Dorne saw him closing in. Jaren did too, panic flashing across his face.
"How the hell did Nero break free?!" Dorne shouted.
Before Jaren could answer, Nero was already there. He slammed a hand over Jaren's face, palm covering his entire skull.
"Let her go," Nero growled.
Jaren's arm loosened. Lina stumbled free, bolting back into the blood-soaked room.
"Please," Jaren begged, his voice breaking. "Please, don't kill me. I don't want to die."
Nero's silver eyes burned cold into him. "Those children didn't want to die either. But you killed them anyway."
His fingers clenched. Bone cracked. Flesh burst. Jaren's skull collapsed like rotten fruit in his grip. Eyes bulged out. Brains and blood splattered across the floor. His body convulsed, then stilled.
"Nooo!" Dorne's roar shook the walls.
He charged.
Eli, still trapped in his grip, twisted around and sank his teeth into Dorne's arm with all his strength. Flesh tore. Blood poured.
"Fucking brat!" Dorne snarled, swinging his arm and slamming Eli onto the stone floor.
The boy hit with a sickening thud. Blood spurted from his nose, ears, and mouth.
"Eli!" Nero screamed, lunging forward—
—but Dorne raised his boot and stomped.
The child's skull caved in with a wet crunch. Red pooled across the ground, staining Dorne's heel.
The bite wound on his arm healed within seconds, leaving only a raised scar.
Rage consumed Nero. He lunged at Dorne with murderous speed—
—and caught a blur of motion instead. A left hook cracked across his jaw like a hammer.
The world twisted. Stone shattered as Nero hit the wall, blood spraying in ribbons. His jaw hung crooked—then snapped back with a wet pop as it knitted.
He staggered upright. Dorne was already on him, a fist tangled in his hair.
"Fucking pest," Dorne spat, and ripped him off the ground.
Agony tore across Nero's scalp as hair yanked free in clumps. Then came the sickening hurl—his body a ragdoll launched through the doorway. He hit the dirt outside, tumbled, and skidded to a brutal stop against Strider.
Dorne stepped into the open, casually brushing strands of Nero's torn hair from his palm. He shook the last of it off with a flick, then lifted his eyes, voice low and venomous.
"You just had to make things harder, didn't you?"
Nero lay broken in the dirt beside Strider.
Bones gave way inside him. His spine bent. Ribs cracked. His skull rang. One shoulder hung loose from its socket. Blood gushed from his mouth in heavy, wet coughs.
Then—snap, snap, snap. Vertebrae straightened. Ribs locked back into place. The shoulder slammed into its socket with a dull crack. The bleeding slowed.
He dragged in a breath, chest heaving, fury smoldering through the pain. His body knit itself together faster and faster until he could stand.
The world still swayed, vision doubled, blurred. Something was coming for him.
Move right, Angelo's voice rang inside his skull.
Nero didn't argue. He staggered right.
A thunderclap rang through the town.
Dorne's fist tore through the space Nero had just left, slamming into Strider. The armored machine shuddered under the impact, steel denting inward like tin foil.
Nero's sight cleared in time to see Dorne pulling his hand free, grinning like a beast.
The monster blurred forward. Fists flashed like hammers, every swing carving air. Nero twisted, ducked, weaved. Some blows missed by inches, some grazed his skin, others landed—each hit cracking bone.
Still, he endured.
Dorne's voice cut through the rhythm of violence. "Why so quiet? No questions? No curses for me?"
Nero ducked another blow, chest heaving. His voice came low. "I only have two."
Dorne grinned wider, strikes never slowing. "Then ask. I'll answer them—before I drag you back inside and drive more screws into your bones."
Nero struck back. His fists crashed into Dorne's knuckles, bone meeting bone in savage collisions. His fingers split and cracked from the impact. They healed mid-motion—and he punched again.
Through the blood and grinding bone, he spat his first question:
"How did you get this strong? And why can you heal so fast?"
Dorne's eyes gleamed. His leg whipped out, a brutal roundhouse. It smashed into Nero's ribs with a sickening crunch. Nero flew, body skidding across the dirt. He clawed trenches into the ground to halt himself.
Ribs knitted. Breath came back ragged. He rose again.
Dorne was already on him, leaping to crush his skull into the earth with a piledriver punch. Nero slipped aside, dirt exploding where his head had been.
Dorne pulled his fist free, grinning. "Good question. Remember when Anika took that blood sample from you? Somehow—Anika managed to give me these powers after she injected it into me with the blood transfusion." He flexed his fist. "I would've been dead if she didn't. Now I too can heal just like you. Cool, isn't it?"
Nero's voice dropped to a blade's edge, ice cold. "Did you feel anything… when you killed those children?"
Dorne's grin stretched wider. His answer came without a shred of hesitation.
"No."
Nero's breath shook once, eyes burning. His voice broke low, carrying rage and sorrow in equal measure.
"Then I won't lose sleep over killing every single one of you."
Dorne laughed, crouched low, and charged.
"Then show me what you've got, Nero!"